Plasmid Marketing Meeting

Hotshot Sinclair Solutions marketing executive Jack Loki stares thoughtfully at the bottle of whiskey on his desk. The silence is broken by the entrance of a dishelved looking young man.

Mr. Loki: Mornin’, Rodney. How are the wife and kids?

Rodney: I’m single, Sir.

Mr. Loki: I could have sworn you brought someone to the Christmas party.

Rodney: I was single at the Christmas party. I was single yesterday, I’m single today, and I’ll be single tomorrow.

Mr. Loki: Testy, testy.

Rodney: It gets annoying.

Mr. Loki: I’m pretty sure my assistant can’t speak to me this way.

Rodney: I’m not your assistant. I’m an intern. I can be somewhere else in a week.

Mr. Loki: Well-

Rodney: I don’t even work for this department. I’m with engineering. I just drew the short straw on showing you the new plasmids.

Mr. Loki: You’ve actually had another breakthrough? I thought this sea slug thing was a one-hit wonder.

Rodney: Adam. The substance is called Adam.

Mr. Loki: And it comes from sea slugs. Not the easiest marketing job you’ve handed me, by the way

Rodney: Did you have to call it “Electro Bolt”?

Mr. Loki: It’s catchy.  “Applied Electrokinesis Gene Therapy” wasn’t going to fly off the shelves.

Rodney: I understand that. But marketing it to housewives?

Mr. Loki: They bought it, didn’t they? Show me what you’ve got.

Rodney: First off, we have an unprecedented breakthrough in artificial pyrokinesis. Ideal for the industrial sector. It could superheat iron for purification at a-

Mr. Loki: We’ll sell it as a party favor. “Light up the night, with Ignite.”

Rodney: You’re serious.

Mr. Loki: Of course not. “Incinerate”  is catchier.

Rodney: You’ll light half the city on fire.

Mr. Loki: Half the city already is on fire. Andrew Ryan doesn’t make friends very well.

Rodney: Next, a psychic link between man and artificially generated insects. I imagine we can apply it

Mr. Loki: I’m thinking self-defense. Dig a hive of African Killer Bees into your skin, throw them at the guy that stole your girl. Pay dirt

Rodney: Do you have even the smallest shred of respect for our work? Selling this to any lunatic on the street is a blow to our pride and human safety in general.

Mr. Loki: Are you really going to pull a change of heart on me now? After four months?

Rodney: Yes!

Mr. Loki: Stevie grows a backbone. Great.

Rodney: It’s Rodney. And I’m not the only one. There’s talk downstairs of leaving. Taking our talents elsewhere.

Mr. Loki: This is the playing field you created. Would you come to me with coke and be surprised when I sell it to a junkie?

Rodney: I…err…

Mr. Loki: Talk all you want. None of the boys downstairs are leaving. They’re making money hand over fist in a ship that should have sunk a long time ago. Building a better mousetrap comes with dead mice.

Rodney: I think you’re mixing metaphors.

Mr. Loki: The mice are people on the ship.

Rodney: Right.

Mr. Loki: Get out of my office. I’m about to inject twice the recommended dose of this shit.

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